


Winter to Spring

by dawnishere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean Hunk (Voltron), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Altean/Galran, Arranged Marriage, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Happy Ending, Heith Secret Santa 2017, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 03:25:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13285983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnishere/pseuds/dawnishere
Summary: Keith is to be married to some faceless Altean for the sake of lasting peace, but he'd much rather spend time with his new friend, Hunk.





	Winter to Spring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fuchsschatten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuchsschatten/gifts).



> This fic is for [fuchsshatten](http://fuchsschatten.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr for the Heith Secret Santa. Sorry it's so late, darling! I hope you had a lovely holiday! 
> 
> Some background notes: In this, Keith had been raised by his mother (and later, the Blade) and never knew his human father. Hunk is still the Yellow Paladin, but instead of Keith being the Red Paladin, it's Allura. There's some mention here about Allura's human fiancé but I've left it pretty open to interpretation. 
> 
> There's exactly one swear word in this but I didn't think it merited a whole T rating so.
> 
> Enjoy!

Inhale, he reminded himself. He took in a long, measured breath, willing his heart to calm and his nerves to settle. Everything would work out, one way or another. It had to. He would do whatever it took to solve it. He exhaled shakily, carding a rough hand through his hair. 

Keith opened his eyes, having walked the almost rote path into the castle gardens without looking in his haste to escape the meeting with the Generals. And the Altean royal family. The memory of the Princess (soon-to-be Queen) and her bushy-haired, orange advisor made his fists clench painfully, his nails carving half-moons into the flesh of his hands. His own superiors, including Kolivan, just looked apologetic as they told him of their decision. 

Though the war the Galra had waged upon the larger portion of the galaxy had ended, peacekeeping was tricky and rife with unforeseen issues. The Altean race had been wiped out years ago, leaving only a few surviving members of the royal family and their Paladins. Zarkon and his army had fallen and Lotor, his disgraced son, was locked away in a high security facility for war crimes.

Beyond trials and treason, however, there came the matter of permanent peace between the Galra and the peoples they’d destroyed over the millennia. Coran, the Princess Allura’s adviser, suggested a marriage as a show of goodwill between what remained of Altea and the Galra. However, Allura was already spoken for, which meant they had to look elsewhere for their posterchildren of peace. 

The Blade of Marmora had been instrumental in ending the war, and they eagerly aimed for clout in this new world order. They’d pushed him forward as a candidate, whatever that meant now that Allura’s hand was off the table, but they hadn’t bothered to ask him if he was willing.

Did Kolivan or any of the others care that he didn’t want to get married to some Altean blowhard? That there was still so much to learn about Earth, about his origins? It was pointless to dwell on the past, Kolivan continuously reminded him, when you’re trying to fight for the future. But now that the future was here, he couldn’t help it. There was so much he didn’t know about himself, but he’d promised himself he’d leave as soon as his role in peacekeeping was over and he could dedicate all his time to it.

No such luck now. 

The war had been about duty. Duty to his people, to the universe; duty to justice and other ideals. But now that the war had been fought, he couldn’t help the flash of selfishness that ran through him. _Doesn’t the universe owe me?_

Keith found a bench tucked away in the center of the garden and sat, taking out his knife and fingering the hilt contemplatively. The insignia carved into the luxite handle intermittently pulsated with his energy and he resisted the urge to swing it into its true form and behead the entire garden of flowers. His mother’s knife, the last of her possessions.

“What are you doing?”

Keith cursed colorfully and dropped his blade, startled. A brown hand, dotted with dark freckles, darted down before he could even move and grabbed his knife, holding it out to him. He looked up as he accepted the knife and found himself at a loss for words. 

The being hovering above him was one of the most beautiful sights he’d had the fortune to see since he’d landed on planet Arus. And he’d seen the Altean princess, who was renowned in equal parts for her beauty and ferocity on the battlefield. 

“...Thank you,” Keith mumbled after a pause, taking the knife and slipping it back into its sheath. 

“You’re very welcome,” the stranger replied. He had an amused lilt to his voice and Keith could feel himself warming for absolutely no good reason. “May I sit?” the stranger gestured toward the empty spot on his bench. Keith, still focusing on his face, took a moment to respond and nearly shouted an affirmative. His amusement seemed to skyrocket as he sat next to him. There was such little space on the bench their thighs were pushed flush together and Keith tried to keep his leg from bouncing with nerves. 

“...Are you...here for the peace council?” The stranger groaned at himself, speaking again before Keith can get a word in edgewise. “Of course you are,” he laughed. “You don’t exactly look like an Arusian.” 

“You’re right,” Keith said slowly, feeling a little whiplashed. “I’m here on behalf of the Blade of Marmora. And you?”

“The peace talks seem to be going well,” the stranger said amiably, ignoring his question. Keith hummed noncommittally. “I hear there are plans in motion for permanent peace, though they haven’t told the entire council what that precisely entails.” He inhaled sharply, looking at the stranger with suspicious eyes. He stared back steadily, willing him to blink. 

Without blinking, Keith turned back to look out at the garden. “So I’ve heard as well. I guess they’re keeping the details on a need-to-know basis.” His voice remained mercifully level and he held his breath as the stranger shifted in his spot. All of a sudden, he felt tense and on his guard; he couldn’t quite place his face at a single one of the meetings he’d attended and he wondered if he was even on the council in any capacity. 

Keith stood abruptly. “Who are you?” He reached for the hilt of his knife in anticipation. The stranger looked up, a little alarmed by the location of Keith’s hand and raised his own hands placatingly. 

“I’m someone you can trust, I promise, no need to turn things violent!” If Keith hadn’t been looking right at his face, he would have missed the shift from clear brown skin to brown lined with sparkling indigo markings. He took a step back in shock, his jaw dropping. 

“I’ll ask you again: _who are you?_ ” As far as he knew, only Altean royalty could shapeshift and even then, the Princess had yet to demonstrate thus far so he couldn’t even be sure of that. He unsheathed his knife and swung it into its full blade in a single breath, eyes locked on the stranger’s own.

“I’m a Paladin!” The stranger shouted, then slapped his hands over his mouth as if he’d spilled a deep secret. Which...not out of the running. “Stop pointing that sword at me,” he muttered, tone just shy of a whine. 

“A paladin?” Keith asked dubiously, swordpoint still aimed at the stranger. He swung it a little carelessly and the stranger shoved himself backward, pushing the bench further against the stone wall surrounding the garden. Oops? “Of what?”

“Of w--of Voltron, you jackass!” He looked so offended Keith nearly laughed. “A paladin of what, he asks, like there are other things to be paladins of.” 

“Hey,” Keith grumbled, “Just making sure.” His sword turned back into a knife and he tucked it back into its sheath for the second time in the last few minutes. “You could have been a spy, and well, the peace talks have been troublesome enough without adding a spy to the mix.” 

“I’ll say,” the _paladin of Voltron_ mumbled in agreement. “I had to take a breather, it was so chaotic. I thought I was alone out here until I saw you.” He seemed to cheer at that, grinning a little to himself. 

Keith extended a hand. “I’m Keith, by the way. Here with the Blade of Marmora. Sorry we uh got off on the wrong foot.” 

The stranger took it, shaking it vigorously. “Hunk. Paladin of Voltron.” Keith grinned at that. Hunk, huh? That was fitting. “I’m a leg!” Hunk whispered theatrically. 

And one of the last surviving Alteans, he would bet his life on it. Keith tucked that piece of information away for later. 

“You’re a Paladin of Voltron, then, you’re probably privy to all sorts of details on the peace council I could only dream of knowing,” he began curiously. “How do you think the peace talks could go more smoothly, because I have some thoughts of my own.” Keith gingerly sat back on the bench, crossing his leg over the other knee. He thought bitterly of his impending marriage to whomever the council ended up choosing and tried not to let it show on his face.

“Well,” Hunk hesitated, propping up his chin on his hand in thought. “I may be one of the paladins, but I do not know _everything_ ….” He stretched his arm up and out a little, resting on the back of the bench as he considered Keith’s question more in full. Keith tried not to move. “I guess one of the better things that the council has achieved is….” 

They continued in that vein for the better part of the afternoon. Keith brought up some difficult-to-refute points about the relationship between the races that had sided with the Galra and the new Alliance, despite not being directly in their military ranks and what it would mean for them during peacetime. Keith found Hunk surprisingly well-versed in wartime poetry and economics. They touched on a multitude of topics, including, briefly, their own pasts before Keith quickly barrelled forward to another subject. At twilight, they parted ways, Keith skipping dinner and sparring with the dummy in the armory, Hunk going...wherever he went. 

The day after, Keith wasn’t sure if he’d see the paladin again, but he was pleasantly surprised to catch him on the same bench during the lunch hour. They talked at length, delving more deeply into Hunk’s knowledge of poetry and his own work, while Keith described his trips to Earth and other planets in the Sol system. Somehow, two days in a row turned into three, and soon they’d met everyday for a month. They rarely brought up the negotiations after that first day, but Keith kept them in the back of his mind. 

The day Kolivan told him the council had finally chosen his spouse-to-be, Hunk was late to their regular meeting spot. Keith waited twenty minutes, a good fifteen minutes longer than he’d intended to wait, and stood to leave when Hunk didn’t show. As he made his way through the garden, he nearly crashed into Hunk, who was sprinting. 

“I’m sorry,” Hunk panted, trying to catch his breath. “I had to take care of something for the Princess and lost track of time.” He breathed heavily, and grasped his knees as he bent over wheezing. Keith watched in concern.

“How far did you run?” Keith asked once he caught his breath. 

“I ran all the way here from the fifth floor conference room,” he breathed out. “Were you waiting long?”

“No,” Keith lied. He couldn’t help the small smile that appeared at Hunk’s expression of utter relief. “Should we sit?” He gestured in the direction of their usual bench. 

Hunk asked him how his day had gone and Keith shuddered at the memory of Kolivan’s face, apologetic but firm. “The usual,” he mumbled. Hunk, tone strangely lackluster, responded with the same. He quickly changed the subject, asking Hunk to recount his favorite moments as a Paladin in exchange for a story from Keith’s childhood. Keith had clear memories of his mother, but thinking of her made his chest ache with old hurt. Hunk was comfortable to speak to, though. More so than Garis or even Kolivan had ever been. It was strange, thinking that and then realizing that they’d only known each other for a month. They’d grown unbelievably closer in that time, and Keith barely blinked when Hunk wrapped a comforting arm around him when his voice choked up over explaining one of the weird habits he’d picked up from his mom. 

Before Keith realized it, it was dinnertime and their stomachs were grumbling. Hunk seemed excited about it though, stating it was a perfect opportunity to teach someone else (i.e. him) what it meant to have a gourmet palate. 

“You have to sit next to me at dinner; I will show you all the best food hacks!” Hunk laughed as he led the way into the castle. 

“Food...hacks?” Befuddled, Keith could only trail behind him.

Dinner was nearly a sedate affair, broken only by Hunk’s dedicated effort to conversation. Keith avoided looking at any of his fellow Blades and he didn’t recognize any of the other attendees. At the end of the long table, Princess Allura sat flanked by her human fiancé and her adviser. Her blue eyes were sharp as he accidentally caught her gaze and he quickly turned his attention back on Hunk, who focused on separating his plate into different flavor combinations. 

“And if you pour a little of the Arusian goldenrod gravy on the steak, it’s nearly as good as this kebab I once had at the space mall when we were tracking Voltron.” Hunk took a bite and moaned in delight. He put together another bite and offered Keith his fork with a startling lack of self-awareness. 

“Uh,” Keith hesitated. Hunk’s face fell a moment, before he made to take the fork back. He snatched it out of Hunk’s hand without a second thought, using his knife to transfer the bite to his own fork. “Thanks,” he gulped, eyeing the food warily. Arusian food somehow managed to upset his stomach every time but it was the only thing they could serve without offending the visiting diplomats, each of whom wanted their own food served. However, the long war had depleted a lot of rare food stores, and serving food from every planet’s tradition would be impossible. A _compromise_ , Kolivan called it. Keith just held his breath and put the bite of food in his mouth, chewing quickly. 

“Well?” Hunk looked expectant. Keith chewed. The texture…left something to be desired, but...surprisingly, the steak had a nuanced flavor, only heightened by the gravy. He swallowed and licked his teeth experimentally. It wasn’t terrible and he might even venture to say it was...good?

“It’s...good,” Keith said, his voice turning up like it was a question. “I--can you show me how you made it again?”

Hunk beamed. His own heart thudded like a wardrum in his chest and Keith found himself grinning back.“It’s really easy, you just put the mashed...whatever this is on the steak and you add this and then this--in that order, otherwise it makes the gravy taste off--and then, voila, as they say.” He reached over and arranged part of Keith’s plate, and he had to lean back to avoid knocking into him. “There you go,” Hunk finished. He paused, looking between the plate and Keith and suddenly seemed to realize how close he was to him, jerking back in embarrassment. “Sorry, I did not mean to um.” He cleared his throat and shifted back into his own chair. 

Keith felt hot, feverish almost, and coughed self-consciously. “It’s fine. You’re fine.” He twirled his fork through the pile of food on his plate and found a question on his mind. “How did you learn so much about...food if you were fighting Zarkon with the rest of Voltron?” 

Hunk scratched his jaw absently and Keith followed his hand with his gaze. “I’ve always loved food, even before--well, before. We visited a lot of new places on our quest to defeat Zarkon and it gave me a chance to try an incredible number of new foods. I picked up a few things here and there,” he shrugged, sheepish. 

When the dinner ended, Keith found himself a little reluctant to leave Hunk behind. They walked deeper into the castle together and Hunk paused at the fork between two hallways. Keith, who’d walked ahead down the one leading to his quarters, looked back. 

Hunk was nervous. He tapped his pointer fingers together and looked away. “Keith, I…”

“Yes?” He walked closer, slowly, like he might approach an injured animal. “Is something wrong? Did we go the wrong way?” He cracked a smile. 

Hunk jerked his head. “It’s nothing. Whatever happens after today, I want you to know--to know it was great to finally meet you.” Puzzled, he returned the sentiment, which brightened Hunk’s disposition a moment. Keith reached out to shake his hand but Hunk pulled him into an embrace, heavy and warm. For a moment, so brief Keith could pretend he’d never had the thought, he wished Hunk could be his fiancé instead of a faceless person he had yet to meet. They parted, Hunk’s hand lingering for a long moment on his back. For a split second, he thought Hunk was going to kiss him but he just stepped back with a cough. Keith nodded in farewell and walked off to his quarters hastily. He didn’t look back to see if Hunk was still there. He couldn’t explain his sudden urge to stay. 

He readied himself for bed, changing into a clean set of pyjamas. Midway through brushing his teeth, his thoughts caught on something he’d missed before. He spat out the foam and gargled quickly. Wiping his mouth, he touched a hand to the mirror, locking eyes with his reflection. 

“What exactly did he mean by ‘finally’?”

* * *

_This is what he meant by_ ‘finally’. Keith could feel Hunk’s eyes on him, but he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of his attention. He looked straight on at Kolivan, who stood with Princess Allura. 

“It’s wonderful that we were able to come to a compromise, Princess,” Kolivan intoned, a rare smile gracing his expression as he shook hands with the Princess and her adviser in turn. Other members of the council, including the Arusian king and representatives from various planets across the universe, looked disgruntled. However, they’d already accepted that none of their own would be part of this new agreement. Besides, Keith thought bitterly, it needed to be a Galran and an Altean for the marriage to be a symbol of peace. 

“Yes,” the Princess said brightly, glancing at Keith and Hunk from the corner of her eye. “This will benefit us all in the long run.” There was an undercurrent of steel to her tone, an unspoken threat to the both of them. _Make this work or suffer the consequences._ Not for the first time, he was relieved to be on the Princess’ side. Her ferocity toward her enemies had not been overstated.

While the council of diplomats cleared out of the conference room, Keith stayed behind to think and be alone. He stood at the window making up the entire back wall of the room, looking out on the gardens. The door behind him shut with a hydraulic hiss but Keith knew he wasn’t alone. Hunk came to stand at his shoulder, looking through the window. The air was thick with tension, and Keith looked for something to say that wasn’t just a frustrated scream. 

“You--” Keith began.

“I’m so--”

They started speaking at the same moment and Keith shut his mouth with a click of teeth. “You first,” Hunk chuckled softly, self-deprecating. 

“Did you know?” Keith asked simply. He didn’t look at Hunk. 

“Did I know what?” So he was going to play dumb? That was fine, Keith had more than enough time to explain everything _thoroughly._

“Did you know they were going--that you and I are supposed to--to get married for the sake of some ridiculous treaty? What year is it, anyway? Didn’t Altea stop doing arranged marriages like, ten thousand years ago?” Hunk winced at that and he turned to stare down his _fiancé_ at last. He hoped his eyes looked like fire because he felt it within himself. “Is that why you approached me in the first place?”

Hunk touched his shoulder but Keith shrugged it off, tried to ignore Hunk’s crestfallen expression. “No, I...yes. I did. I just wanted to see what you were like. Beforehand.” 

Keith sneered at him. “Did I meet your expectations?” He shoved his face into his, so close their noses nearly touched. “Whatever your intentions were, it didn’t stop you from lying to me, or from making me think you were someone you weren’t.”

“What did I lie about?” Hunk retorted, scowling. “I told you the truth at every turn. About being a paladin, about being Altean--”

“ _When_ did you tell me about being Altean, you sack of Taurean shit?” He had to laugh, and couldn’t help the high, hysterical sound that burst out of him. “We spoke for hours and that didn’t come up once, strangely. About as many times as the fact that we were going to be engaged.” 

“My face shifted when you were looking right at me, I thought you figured it out,” Hunk said. He looked so confused, Keith nearly believed him. He watched as Hunk ran his fingers through his dark brown hair in frustration, tugging slightly at the roots.

“You should have told me from the beginning,” Keith insisted. “You should have given me time to deal with _this_ , instead of springing it on me when I had absolutely no choice but to go through with it.”

“You’re right,” Hunk murmured. He looked dully ashamed. 

“It doesn’t matter what you say, I know I’m--right, which...is what you just said.” Keith paused, feeling a little like his ship had lost fuel. “Of course I’m right.” 

“I was being selfish.” It was then that Keith fully took in his expression. He was looking at him with such softness, it ached. 

He licked his lips reflexively and swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “You’ve lost me,” he rasped before clearing his throat again. 

“I was selfish. I suppose I thought it’d be easier.” Hunk said haltingly. He turned away but Keith touched his arm and he stilled. They were so close they were breathing the same air, sharing the same breath. “That _this_ \--” he waved his hands about--”would be easier if I--if we--if you and I could...fall in love.” For a moment, the only sound Keith could hear was the air filter. You could drop a piece of paper in that breath and it would clatter to the floor. 

Keith was not a heart-baring type of guy. Rarely had he run into a problem and come up with a solution that involved him spilling his guts. Despite that, sometimes a situation called for it, and he did like solving things. So. He took a breath to steady himself and said: “What if...I wasn’t quite there but I was...close?”

He could see the moment the tension bled out of Hunk’s frame, and he bit back a smile. “Oh?” Hunk looked a little too mischievous for someone he’d been furious with not two minutes ago. “Close? What can I do to help you...get there, so to say?”

“I take it back, you’re not taking me seriously,” he grumbled. Hunk immediately stammered an apology, holding Keith’s hands as he very nearly simpered. His hands were warm and he laced their fingers without another thought. Keith looked at Hunk again, taking in the soft line of his jaw and his expressive mouth, turned up in a pout at that very moment. He pulled one of his hands from Hunk’s and reached up to trace Hunk’s bottom lip, something he’d wanted to do for three weeks. Hunk stopped talking, watching him with lowered lids and a curious expression. 

“Can I--” kiss you, he wanted to say. It caught in his throat, but Hunk didn’t say anything, lightly kissing his finger when it stilled over the seam of the other’s lips. It was totally ridiculous but Keith said nary a word, barely breathing in anticipation and letting his hand fall to the side.

Hunk leaned down a little, kissing Keith’s forehead. His lips were warm, firm. He closed his eyes as Hunk kissed his cheeks in turn, and then his nose. When he hovered just in front of his lips, Keith grabbed the front of his uniform and pulled him down to slot their mouths together. It wasn’t a perfect kiss by any means, but it was warm and made Keith feel like a colony of bees had made a hive of his stomach. When Hunk moved his mouth, he moved right along with him, his hand tightening on Hunk’s shirt as Hunk carded his hand through Keith’s dark hair. When they parted, lips rubbed raw and a bit of stubble burn smarting along Keith’s jaw, they just grinned at each other.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was good. And they had a long time to perfect it anyway, now, didn’t they?


End file.
